Leaders Are Not Angels
by ForbiddenDreams13
Summary: Takes place during the 1783 Newburgh Conspiracy. America and Revolutionary veterans assemble at Newburgh, New York. While urging calm and understanding, a pair of glasses worn by the president teach everyone a moving lesson.


**Hey, what's up readers?**

**Disclaimer: *insert funny disclaimer about how Hetalia doesn't belong to me here***

**Author's Note and Clarification: This fic may seem more historical-figure-centered, but it's actually (like a few of my other fics) event-centered. This takes place during the 1783 Newburgh Conspiracy. I have no idea as to why it's called such, as it really wasn't much of a conspiracy, but I digress. I could give you a mini-history lesson on the event in this fic, but one, that's what we take history classes for, and two, the fic will tell the story.**

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America looked out at the assembled Revolutionary veterans. Hard, angry eyes glared around the room. Weather-beaten and frustrated faces stared at the closed door through which the president was soon to walk in through. These men assembled before him were outraged, to say the least, that they had not received their back pay and benefits that they had been promised when they took up arms against the British. Floundering in debt, they wrote to Washington and threatened to disband and leave their fledgling country without an army to defend it. Sighing, America resumed his staring contest with his boots. As if the financial crises in the new government weren't enough. How could these men ask to be lifted from their debt when the government had its own debt problems to sort out? The young republic crossed his arms and hoped his president would arrive soon.

"Hey," spoke a voice from the assembled soldiers, "are you sure Washington will make an appearance?"

Stirred from his worrying, America jerked his head up. For a moment, the question hung suspended in his mind, refusing to be processed. Then, the mental factory went back to work and he gave the soldier a shaky smile.

"Trust me, he'll be here. Of all the things Washington is, a liar is not one of them." he assured the gathered men.

A snort came from another soldier, "Oh really? Then where is my back pay? If he's not a liar, then why don't I have the money I was promised?"

"Well, things are...difficult right now. There's a lot more going on within the capital then you realize."

"Like lying?" someone shouted.

America felt a vein in his forehead pop, "Look!" he snarled, "In order to win against Britain, we had to borrow substantial amounts of money from the French, and naturally we have to pay them back. However, underneath the Articles of Confederation, government does not have the power to tax its citizens. In other words, we've dug ourselves into a crafty little hole. So how do you expect to get your back pay when there are far more pressing issues like paying back a greedy European nation before they decide they're tired of waiting and move in for the kill. Think we're ready for another war?"

No one responded.

Rant finished, America leaned back against the wall and continued waiting. The soldiers, argument defeated and buried, sat back and waited along with their country. Not a few minutes later, the door creaked open, and in strode George Washington. The moment America looked upon his leader, he felt his spirit soar. If no one else could make these soldiers see the truth, he could. This man, who had led the Continental Army-a bunch of rag-rag, over-night soldiers-against the greatest army in the world against the British and won. The powerful general whose strategical methods had pushed the British not only out of the country, but well past their limit. This towering, post-Revolutionary icon who could endure so much would lead him and these soldiers with ease through this troubled time.

The soldiers fixed their commander in chief with stares of contempt and sneers. Someone spat on the floor. Washington strode up to America and gave the country a warm greeting. Smiling, America responded in kind. The soldiers murmured to each other, but voiced nothing to the two up at the front. Washington turned from America to the assembled men. He clasped his hands behind his back, looking over the angered face of each soldier in turn. Closing his eyes, he began to speak.

"I must thank you all for attending today. I have come to Newburgh, New York on this day to urge you to calm the anger inside of you, and understand that there are certain obstacles in place that bar me from delivering upon my promise to you." He took out a piece of yellowed parchment from his breast pocket and unfolded it, "Within this small letter, are some of the problems that we as a country now currently face. They are largely financial, and they are as daunting as they are crippling."

Washington held the letter and began to read. Suddenly, there was a pause from the president. He squinted at the paper, pulled it closer, and then continued reading. Then, there was another pause. America watched the president, worried that something was wrong. He frowned, his leader was never like this.

Another pause and stumble. Washington gave the letter a closer look. After a moment, something dawned on him, He closed his eyes, chuckling to himself, and pulled a pair of glassed out, sliding them up the bridge of his nose. The soldiers stared at the glasses in awe. America blinked at the item held within the man's hand.

"Forgive me," he said, "it seems, I have grown old in the service of my country."

He continued to read, but no one was really listening. America stared at the president. Since when did Washington need glasses to read?

_...I have grown old in the service of my country._

He had grown old. The realization hit America like a cannonball to the gut. Here he was, idolizing Washington and putting him up on a pedestal as this great, unconquerable leader, when in all reality, he was as human as anyone else. He was not a god, he was not an angel, he was just a pious man trying his very best to lead a new nation and do what was right. Even he had his limits. The soldiers in the crowd shared looks of shock and awe. They too held the same vision as America did, but now... Their collective gaze rested on the spectacles perched on the Commander-in-Chief's nose. Glasses. This great man could not see without them.

Some time later, Washington finished the letter, gave them a request and a farewell, and left. Silence enveloped the room in a thick shroud, lifted when an officer rose from his seat, and walked to the front of the room. He looked over at America, requesting for permission to speak. America nodded. The officer nodded back, indicating his thanks. The officer turned toward the seated militia members.

"Today we have seen something both shocking and moving. Normally, this instance would seem trivial were it any other individual, but not with the man who was just in here. President Washington came to us, to speak with us, to request of us that we not disband and leave our country vulnerable. He came to us on our behalf. We were angry and bitter. We focused only upon the sacrifices we had made, and not about those of others. We failed to realize that while we suffer hardships, so do others. Some, more detrimental than the rest.

"Gentlemen, we came here today enraged because we felt we had lost out on money promised to us, while a man has lost most of his sight, and is not bitter in the least about it. We were worried about money and ourselves, while his only concern was that of his country. I think I speak for all of us when I say we will not disband. We will not abandon our country, nor will we abandon our president. Gentlemen, we are through here."

Everyone nodded in agreement. America thanked the officer and opened the door for him. When the last soldier had exited, America followed suit. He stepped out into the bright, New York sunshine and marveled at the spread of pale azure above him. He reflected again on what Washington had said.

_It seems I have grown old in the service of my country._

True, the man had grown old, but this human trait did not make him less qualified to serve as president, rather it strengthened it.

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**I find this event fascinating and inspiring on so many levels. First, there's the compassion of the soldiers-they are so deeply moved by the fact that Washington had to use glasses to read the letter and by the comment that followed, that they decided not to disband. Second, Washington is regarded as (and rightfully so in my opinion) the Father of America. He is often idolized and placed upon a pedestal, and if someone tried to argue that he was human with human faults, then they're shot down. In my mind, the humanity of Washington, evident in this scene, is such a profound strength of the first president. If the ending is incoherent, I apologize. **


End file.
